


quiet as the grave

by lalaietha



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-15
Updated: 2011-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-27 09:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaietha/pseuds/lalaietha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://insmallpackages.livejournal.com">~insmallpackages</a> prompt, <i>Fic, any length/rating, Boondock Saints, exploring a quiet moment in the MacManus brothers life</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	quiet as the grave

It's all a matter of impulse and gut feeling. In fact, there are times that Connor'd appreciate it, frankly, if God were a little more direct and easy to understand about these things. Times when some kind of holy writing on a piece of toast might not go amiss, for example. Or another out-right prophetic dream. Or something.

But no, it's more or less a matter of impulse and gut feeling, and tonight, they both had the gut feeling they should be sleeping on sanctified ground. Since most churches and cathedrals closed their doors and locked them by night around here, that meant a graveyard.

"Why the hell can't there be a motel accidentally built on holy ground somewhere?" Murphy grumbles, settling down against a headstone that proclaims that some lady who was dearly loved managed to live quite a long time.

"They de-sanctify any ground that gets sold for mundane purposes," Connor retorted, for his own part settling back against a different stone that mourned the fact that a baby who'd also been loved, didn't. "Don't you pay any attention to these things?"

"S'your job," Murph retorts. "Fine," he adds. "Next damn town, we're getting the _good_ hotel."

"And y'don't know the meaning of the word 'low-profile'," Connor added. The blanket wraps around his shoulders and he folds his hands in it in front of him to hold it closed.

"That's two words," Murphy says, just to get the last word in. Connor kicks his brother's foot.

"Shut up and go to sleep," Connor tells him.

When they get coffee and a paper the next morning, there's a story about a raid on the motel they'd otherwise thought of staying at. It'd come up with nothing more than a john, a couple of streetwalkers and someone doing a deal on marijuana.


End file.
